


A Maid for a maiden

by Zazou



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: A.U., ASoIaF Kink Meme, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zazou/pseuds/Zazou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quentyn sets his sights on Sansa Stark, the most eligible lady in King's Landing and Arianne predicts heartbreak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Maid for a maiden

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve written to Winterfell asking for Sansa Stark’s hand.” Arianne said arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow, staring her younger brother down. 

The rumor had to be false. Probably a jape by Cletus Yronwood or that Gerris Drinkingwater overheard by a servant and taken seriously. 

Quentyn frowned and shifted uncomfortably in his window seat. He played nervously with the buttons on his leather jerkin. Arianne couldn’t help but rolled her eyes. He still hadn’t gotten over his habit of fiddling with his clothes no matter how many times their father corrected him. Didn’t he know it made him look weak and ill breed? 

“Gods be good, I only sent the raven yesterday.” He grumbled irritably refusing to meet her inquisitive gaze and looking out the window instead. 

“It seems there no secrets in this damned city.” 

Arianne slumped back onto the velvet settee. So it was true. Why did he aim so high? Surely he must know he was pursuing heartbreak. She loved her little brother truly, but Sansa Stark was far out of his reach. Amongst his intimates Quentyn was clever even funny at times, but in the company of strangers especially ones he wished to impress he clammed up. The few times she’d seen him try and flirt he’d reminded her more of a maester lecturing a restless child than a young knight wooing a lady. He had a good heart but with his nervous sweats, stocky build and dour disposition she could not imagine anyone ever becoming infatuated with him. 

Sansa Stark, on the other hand, was one of the most desirable young ladies at court. She had an impeccable bloodline a gentle temperament and regal bearing, everything a liege lord could want in a good daughter. Plus unlike Margaery, Myrcella and Princess Rhaeneys, she didn’t come attached to a meddlesome family of schemers. Say what you will about the Starks but they abstained from the game and kept their noses out of other people’s business. 

She was also very appealing with her flowing red hair, porcelain skin and large sky blue eyes. Her cousin Tyene had been quite taken with her and was very disappointed when it turned out that she had no interest in the fairer sex. Arianne had overheard Margaery saying that Sansa was too tall and lanky to be considered a true beauty but that was just pettiness and jealousy talking. Ever since her arrival in King’s Landing suitors had been hovering around the girl like vultures around a carcass. Even Lord Willas who was still recovering from an injury courtesy of her uncle, tried to woo the young she-wolf from afar by sending her bolts of green and gold brocade and love letters drenched in perfume. 

Still wooden demeanor or no Quentyn might have stood a chance based on rank alone were it not for Lord Stark’s unusual marriage policy. The Wild Wolf was a doting father and unlike most lords let his children have the final say in who they married. Her brother’s title and sensible ways might win over a lordly father but young girls wanted fire. 

“I suppose if you know so does everyone else.” Quentyn said absently rising from his seat and walking towards her.

How could he be so cavalier? If everyone knew about his bid for the Stark girl’s hand he would be publicly humiliated when he was inevitably rejected. Or was he delusional enough to think that he stood a real chance? 

“It’s all over the Red Keep.” She said. One of her handmaidens place a plate of sweets on the low table in front of her but Arianne paid them no notice her dark eyes locked on her brother. 

“I won’t be surprised if the news has reached father by now.” 

Quentyn shrugged plucked a cream cake from her plate and took an enormous bite. Arianne wrinkled her nose. If he kept indulging his sweet tooth he was bound to get gout like their father. 

Why hadn't her brother consulted her before sending the raven? She could have talked him out of this and spared him and the family this embarrassment. Well, now that the damage was done she’d have to let the sweet fool down gently. That way by the time the rejection letter arrived he’d be prepared. 

“I thought the Hardyng lad was courting her?” She pointed out trying in vain to keep her tone casual. 

All the gossips had Harry the Heir marked as the clear favorite in the battle over the Stark maid’s affections. When she’d first arrived at court everyone was sure she would marry that Joffery brat but after some mysterious ugliness involving her younger sister the two had been avoiding each other like the plague. Now all bets were on the Young Falcon, an accomplished tourney knight from the Vale. 

“He is.” Quentyn replied fiddling with something on his hand. 

“She seemed rather pleased when he crowned her the Queen of Love and Beauty on Prince Aegon’s name day.” 

Her brother shot her a hurt look his dark eyes clouded with betrayal. Apparently, he was still sensitive about his spectacularly awful performance at the tourney. He pouted and stole another cream cake from her plate. Arianne’s lip curled in amusement as she popped a honey-coated date into her mouth. He always looked so silly when he pouted. 

Harry would surely beat him in the war for Sansa’s heart just as he had in the tourney. He was a fine suitor with his sandy brown hair, dimples, and a cheeky smile. He was too vain and empty headed for Arianne’s taste but she recognized that he was just the type to set a young girl’s heart aflutter. Plus according to her sources he was an energetic lover with impressive stamina.  
Quentyn straightened up to his full height and stuck out his chin. Arianne’s lips curled into a bemused smile. He always struck this pose when he wanted to be taken seriously and it never worked. 

“Sansa doesn’t want him.” He said trying in vain to imitate their father’s imposing tone. He paused for dramatic effect, another affectation of father's before declaring in a voice a whole octave deeper than his normal tone. 

“She wants me.” 

Arianne couldn't help but laugh. She knew it was cruel but really this was too much. 

“Right, and I’m Queen Naerys reborn.” 

Her handmaidens burst into insipid giggles. Quick as a shadow cat she whipped her head around and glared daggers at them. She was the only one who got to mock her brother. He may be dull as dirt but he was a Prince of Dorne! She snapped her fingers and they scuttled off.

“It’s true!” Quentyn insisted thrusting his hand in her face.

“See! She gave me her ring.” 

And low and below there it was wrapped around his finger an elegant silver ring with a motif of racing direwolves. Sansa had received many gifts and love tokens but she had been playing coy and had yet to give out any favors of her own. 

“Gods be good.” She whispered taking her brother's hand in hers and examining the ring. 

There was a look in her brother’s eyes she couldn’t quite place. Confidence? Triumph? Either way, it looked good on him and made her proud. 

“Congratulations little brother!” She said clapping him playfully on the back. His sheepish grin warmed her heart.

Well, Arianne thought, now she definitely had to win Prince Aegon’s heart. How would it look if Quentyn beat her in the marriage game? It just wasn’t acceptable.

\----

Arianne and her cousins invited Sansa to her solar to celebrate the betrothal and welcome her into the family. She observed as the Stark girl asked Nymeria Tyene and Sarella question after question about Dorne and it’s customs. Her future good sister was eager to assimilate and make a good impression on Dornish nobility. This reminded her a bit of Quentyn, dutiful and eager to please. They also seemed to share a sweet tooth though Sansa preferred lemon cakes to cream, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended. She had hoped that this evening would give her insight into this odd couple but so far she was still stumped. She and Tyene exchanged a look and she could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Why did this beautiful girl obsessed with tales of dashing knights and fair maidens want the decidedly undashing Quentyn?

He wasn’t even an heir, well not yet anyway. Arianne now had Prince Aegon following her around like a puppy the only obstacle in her way was convincing King Rhaeger that his son would be happier with a bride who wasn’t also his sister. But the Starks weren’t the type to spy so Sansa was probably oblivious to all this. Sure, marrying Quentyn would give her the title of Princess but if she married Harry she’d be the wife of the Warden of the East. Plus if she lived in the Vale she’d be closer to her family and wouldn’t have to struggle with culture shock. 

After several goblets of Dornish red Arianne finally asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “So, tell us how did my baby brother win your heart?” 

Sansa smiled shyly and toyed with the golden ring on her finger making the rubies glint in the firelight. Arianne recognized it as one of Quentyns. It looked too masculine and clunky for Sansa’s delicate fingers but she couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. It was sweet, him wearing a woman’s ring and her wearing a man’s desperate to show the world who they belonged to. 

“I was very flattered by Prince Quentyn’s attentions, but I didn’t make my choice until I overheard him talking with some of his companions. One of them, Ser Drinkingwater I believe, was encouraging Quentyn to wench and whore before he was wed. He said that women prefer a man of experience.” 

Arianne and her cousins all nodded. Gerris had a good point. Green boys were tedious in bed. Everyone knew that. Once Nymeria had kicked a knight out of her bed when he confessed to being a virgin. 

“But Quentyn said that he would not want to dishonor any woman no matter how low her birth.” 

Sansa blushed a goofy dreamy smile on her face. 

“He said he wanted to wait until his wedding night. That’s when I knew that he would be a good and faithful husband.”” 

There was an awkward pause as Arianne and her cousin exchanged confused looks. Faithfulness? That was no reason to marry a virgin. If you wanted a man to keep to your bed you just had to be enticing enough that he would never leave. It made no sense. Chastity? Chastity was what melted the ice queen’s heart? Chastity beat out charm, magnetism, and valor. But why? How? 

Arianne shook her head and took another gulp from her goblet. At this rate she may never understand this northern beauty who'd stolen her brother's heart but as long as they were happy she didn't need to.


End file.
